


Again and Again (and Again)

by covacola



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Gen, Mentions of Wretching/Vomiting, Mild Blood, Opioids, Part of it Anyway, Smoking, Underage Smoking, Unresolved, Vaping, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29712099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/covacola/pseuds/covacola
Summary: Noctis was put on opiates after returning from Tenebrae. His healthhasimproved. Technically. Also so does Ignis during WoR.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Ignis Scientia & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mooglecharm (morphaileffect)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphaileffect/gifts).



It never really stopped. That was the problem. For all the things Noctis, as part of the presumed untouchable upper class, had been sheltered from, this was not one of those things. 

When he'd returned from Tenebrae, his wounds were still severe. Pain medication had been strongly discouraged, but... 

But here he was. Four years later. Haunted with pains he knew were only phantoms. Shadows of stabbing, stinging shooting pains. Excruciating. 

It wasn't always like that. He could walk now. He'd been able to walk for years now. And yet still some days the pain was _so real_. His knee would buckle, the searing heat he swore was the mixing of his and his mother's blood bleeding through his back, tearing the air from his lungs. 

And there was a cure. A curse more than a cure, really. He knew it. 

Most days, the guilt was enough to keep him at bay. But then the phantoms came for him. It hurt so, so real, but that wasn't all. Excuses, mostly. 

A preventative measure-- his knee was starting to act up. 

An ache in his joints-- sometimes his hands or his hips. 

Sometimes he was just irritable and sore. 

Sometimes he was just weak. 

There were days he couldn't think. Days he just didn't feel right. Felt too... Much. Too heavy, too real. And then it felt too unreal. 

They argued. He and Ignis. He and Gladio. Sometimes Ignis and Gladio. And he heard it all, no matter how quietly they tried to hiss at each other. Could hear it through the walls. Sometimes the guilt was enough to stop him. But four years in, and it usually took a little more guilt and giving up to sleep easy. 

Not even a proper teenager and already failing through life. He had to be better. He knew he _wanted_ to be. 

But the pain was so, so much. It wasn't easy. 

Just easier. 


	2. Chapter 2

Four years. He'd known Noct for four years. Well, longer, technically. They'd been hanging out for four years. 

It'd taken some time for him to find out what was going on. 

It made him sick. 

But he wasn't supposed to know. And didn't know how to help. 

Senior year of high school, and his best friend was on opiates. 

He knew Noct smoked. That'd been a surprise. Well, vaping. At higher concentrate. So, worse actually than smoking. 

He'd been smoking (or at least Prom had caught him) sophomore year. He'd said nothing of it. Hell, Prom had gone on and off with him. But three weeks ago Noct had pulled him back, hanging on the rooftop at lunch, to stop him from heading back to class. He'd been shaking. 

Shaking, and crying. 

Noct had asked him to to hold him til he got himself back. 

They hadn't made it to their next class. And as the bell rung at the end of their final class, Noct had bolted. 

Prom had found him scurrying back from the bleachers to meet him to get picked up. He'd been limping. 

But the limp was gone too quickly. After he'd dry swallowed a few pills-- Noct had palmed them so smoothly. Prom hadn't been able to tell how many. 

It made him sick. 

He hadn't said anything to Ignis or Gladio yet. Noct didn't have to ask. The way Noct avoided his eyes, his expression so miserable-- he didn't have to ask. 

But three weeks in and Noct had stopped hiding from him. He knew exactly how many Noct was taking now. How often. It was killing them both slowly. 

Noct put on a brave face for Iggy and Gladio, but not him, not anymore. They'd missed more than a few classes now. Noctis shaking, swearing, crying about how much he hated it all. 

But Prom had seen enough to know the signs now. The pains, the ghosts that haunted him. The rhythm, the routine, the comfort it brought. 

The haziness in his eyes when he wanted it, even if he didn't give in. The clarity that struck too quickly after he'd break. 

Three weeks in and he'd let slip how much this hurt him too. Prom hadn't seen a sign of the urge today. Of the addiction. 

Three weeks in and Noct had learned. 

He _did_ need to hide from Prom too. For Prom's sake. Just like Iggy and Gladio. 

He would have to bear this alone. He would be strong enough for that, at least. 


	3. Chapter 3

Three weeks. Of course the pain was fresh. All of it was still so, so fresh. From the Fall of Insomnia to losing _him_. 

Ignis still felt tingles. Searing pains of memory. And even when he opened his eye there was no relief. 

The scars still burned. Muscles still aches. Every nerve fried, on end. 

In the end, he gave in to the doctors. He couldn't shoulder this pain on his own. He needed help. 

Even if he knew that help could be a curse. 

He hated how apart from himself he felt. How distant, dreamlike it was sometimes. 

Because he knew. He wouldn't wake up. 

And that only made the lull sweeter. With it, he could dream, at least. Pretend Noct was still with them. That they weren't drifting apart as surely as his mind drifted with the drugs. 

He felt sick, hollow. He wasn't strong or brave as Noct had been. As soon as he'd broken, given in-- he'd been all in. 

He'd tried to go without. It hurt, obviously. He'd snapped at Prompto again. Judging by the lack of shuffling, he had actually gone this time. 

His chest felt hollow. His stomach twisted. He wasn't sure he made it. He wretched. There was nothing to empty. 

But Gladio, dear Gladio, was there to hold him as he shook. Held him as his arms gave out beneath the weight of wretches and sobs and the crushing, aching numbness if everything, _everything_. 

Three weeks. It hadn't taken three weeks for him to fall into the same hole he'd watched Noct dig. 

Maybe he could feel closer that way. 

It was stupid. It made no sense. Noctis had worked so hard to climb, dig, crawl his way out of this. It was a slap to the face to think otherwise. 

But he wasn't there to see. And Ignis wasn't half so strong as the others assumed him to be. 

In that vein, maybe it was a blessing he wouldn't see the look on their faces. 

All this time, all wrapped up in what he should be. Had to be. He couldn't bring himself to believe it was worth it anymore. 

So when he forced down the light meal Gladio had done his best to whip up, Ignis let himself grow distant, not even feeling the bottle cap come loose in his hand. 

He let himself sink further into this deep pit of grief and guilt. He didn't have the strength to try anymore. 


	4. Chapter 4

Four years. It'd been a long road. But he and Prom had been there for Iggy. 

They drank to celebrate. It felt kind of odd, one bad habit to celebrate four years off another, but maybe it was better to not think too much about it. 

Ignis had had his ups and downs, but today marked four years off whatever the hell the doctors had given him. Ignis had assured the dosage had been regulated, that'd it'd been all in his head when he'd gone down the rabbit hole. 

He and Prompto still shared guilt. For leaving him like that. But, as Specs had insisted, they'd been there for him to help him come back. As if they hadn't needed him just as much. 

Prompto had picked up smoking at some point. Gladio himself, stimulants. Anything and everything from healing to boosters-- anything to keep pushing himself until he collapsed from lack of sleep, water and nutrition. 

They'd all gone through their own hells. They still were. Things wouldn't be right again. Not until they had Noct back. 

That'd been something else too. They'd stopped talking about him, Noct. And that had felt like an escape, a failure all its own. 

They'd come through it. They were doing better. And they'd have their bad days, weeks, months, maybe even years ahead. But they'd stick together this time. They'd be stronger than they had been. Actually stronger. Together. And so they celebrated. Sobriety and someone they loved. 

Four years ago, that day, Ignis had quit painkillers, Prom cigarettes, and Gladio stims. And twenty eight years ago, the King of Light had been born. 

Gladio felt his voice tighten as he raised his bottle. "Happy birthday, Noct." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I did this in one go let's gooooo love u Mog
> 
> May add onto this later to wrap Noct's stuff. But for now I'll call it done.


End file.
